


Fissure

by TronKon



Category: DCU, DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-24
Updated: 2012-08-24
Packaged: 2017-11-12 19:29:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/494843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TronKon/pseuds/TronKon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason is back from the dead, but the nature of his trauma is so much more then just the Lazarus in his veins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fissure

Jason had gone insane.   
  
That was what everyone told Tim.   
  
It was surprise enough when Tim heard that Jason was  alive in the first place. Bruce was stingy with the details as usual, but his shoulders were stiffer, and his expression somehow more severe when he broke the news.   
  
Normally Tim would assume a resurrection was cause for celebration but the look in Bruce’s eyes, behind the cowl had almost been readable and that’s how Tim knew things were Not Okay.   
And Tim was a good Robin. He was a good partner, and he’d never do anything to make Bruce question him or worry about him on the field so he’d done as Bruce had asked and not looked into the matter.   
  
It was three weeks after Bruce told Tim that Jason was alive and Tim was bursting with questions that he couldn’t ask that Dick came by his apartment.   
  
He brought a pizza and some Zesti and after two steps in Tim could tell that Dick was a mess.   
Dick ditched the pizza on the coffee table and the Zesti in the fridge and all but collapsed on Tim’s couch, tenting his arms over his head and not talking. Dick not talking was another sign that Dick was Not Okay.   
  
Tim grabbed some paper towels from the roll in the kitchen and wrapped a piece of greasy pizza in one, holding it out to the man on his couch. When Dick took it and sat up, Tim was satisfied enough to take a piece of his own.   
  
There were few things that could rattle Dick so much. Only one of those things Tim had any sort of knowledge about.   
  
“Is this about Jason?” Tim took a bite of pizza.   
  
Dick choked on his.   
  
When Dick had recovered he shot Tim a bemused and slightly guilty look. “You’re too perceptive for your own good Timmy.”   
  
Tim shrugged his shoulders. Dick’s tells were always really obvious. Not that he’d tell Dick that. “Bruce told me he was back. Not much more than that, but I got the impression things weren’t going that great.”   
  
Dick snorted, muffling the sound in another bite of pizza. “That’s an understatement.” Unlike Bruce, Dick tended to clarify some of his points. “If we happen to find him, he goes berserk. He won’t even talk, he just becomes this wild- thing.” Dick shook his head. “He’s not Jason anymore. Not the way he used to be.”   
  
Tim listened. It was way more information then Bruce would ever give him.   
But Tim didn’t really know how Jason used to be. All he had were stolen snapshots in the dark streets of Gotham to remember Jason by. So he figured he’d have to take Dick’s word for it.   
Tim mulled it over. “Maybe it isn’t Jason. Maybe it just looks like him.”   
  
Dick chewed on his pizza crust and shook his head. “No- Bruce ran the tests. Plus he knows way too much to not be Jason.” Dick’s expression was forlorn, to say the least.   
  
Tim didn’t have enough information to form an opinion either way, so he finished his own pizza and reached for more. “I’m sorry Dick.”   
  
Dick sighed. “Me too.”   
  
Tim resolved to try and find a way to help. Dick didn’t deserve to be so miserable over this. Not when Tim might be able to do something.   
  
  
  
Jason had gone insane.   
  
That was what everyone had told Tim.   
But, crouched on the edge of a building, shielded from the wind by the flying buttress he was stuffed underneath- Tim wondered if that was exactly true.   
  
The Red Hood was crouched just below him, watching Tim with a hand on the gun at his belt. They were both being pelted by rain and vicious wind.   
  
Tim had made the connection between the new vigilante in Gotham and Jason pretty quickly. Mostly because he had been in Gotham almost a month now and Bruce nor Dick seemed to have any luck in taking him out.   
  
Obviously they were compromised, it was the only explanation. Bruce was good at what he did.  
  
“Who the fuck are you supposed to be?” The voice was growling and guttural and drifted up to Tim from behind Red Hood’s helmet. Tim could hear both rage and confusion in that tone. Jason’s voice was much deeper now then it had been in his Robin days.   
  
Tim didn’t move or twitch. He just continued looking at Jason. Non threatening. Dick had warned him about Jason and he was going to take his advice. “I’m Robin. As the costume and cape might lead you to assume-“   
  
“Bullshit.” Jason cut him off.   
  
Tim didn’t argue.   
  
Jason’s fingers flexed and twitched. Tim wondered if he was going to try and shoot him. Visibility wasn’t good. Rain was never good for gunplay.   
  
But Jason didn’t seem to be finished.   
  
“There can’t be any fucking Robin without Batman. And there isn’t a fucking Batman in this city. Not anymore.” Tim almost thought he heard sympathy in Jason’s voice. Sympathy for  him .   
  
Well that didn’t make any sense.   
  
But Jason flipped off the building and was gone while Tim was thinking about how it didn’t make sense.   
  
Jason hadn’t even tried to kill him.   
  
He didn’t even really yell.   
  
  
  
Tim tells Dick about his run in with Jason in the cave that evening.   
  
It only made sense for Tim to keep Dick apprised of his nightly patrols and what happened on them. But Tim mentions Jason and Dick goes paper white.   
  
He seems calmed by the sheer nothingness that was shared between Tim and Jason. And a little comforted maybe by the fact it didn’t seem like Jason had wanted to push him off some gothic architecture.   
  
But to Tim the whole interaction is a puzzle.   
  
  
  
Tim gets his first taste of how Jason is crazy when he’s out patrolling with Dick.   
  
Jason comes out of nowhere like a bat out of hell and collides with Dick midair.   
  
Dick had enough advanced warning through peripheral vision to twist away from the shots Jason fired at him. Tim swung close enough to hear the filthy curses Jason screamed at Dick as he tried to kill him savagely and unrepentantly. Dick had his work cut out for him in keeping alive and Tim could see that.   
  
Jason saw Tim arrive and backed up abruptly. He apparently was not crazy enough to battle two against and melts into Gotham’s shadows as Dick catches his breath.   
  
But Jason’s screams are still ringing in Tim’s ears.   
  
Tell me what you did with them. Tell me where they are you son of a bitch.   
  
It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.    
  
______   
  
Bruce noticed first. That was something that didn’t surprise Tim.    
  
Bruce always noticed when you didn’t follow his instructions to the letter. Beyond that he didn’t  appear to pay much attention to what Tim did in his down time.   
  
But he loomed now over Tim while Tim sat cross legged on his bed in full nest mode with his laptop, headphones, and an assortment of items strewn about him.   
  
Tim had been careful about which files he was accessing and had tunneled into the network remotely using a ghost shell he’d developed himself. It was nearly untraceable. Bruce might have found him in the network. A more reasonable assumption was that Bruce had a hunch that Tim wasn’t following his explicit orders by way of some extra sense Timothy did not possess and was here to verify said hunch.  
  
“I told you to stay out of it, Tim.”   
  
Yes. Bruce was in full loom mode.  
  
Tim slid his headphones off his ears and let them dangle around his neck, He looked up. Bruce’s face was shuttered. No surprise.  
  
“I haven’t engaged him Bruce. I’m just looking over some of the case files you and Dick submitted from your run ins with Ja-”    
  
Bruce’s shuttered expression took on a sterner note. “I asked you to stay out of it and I meant completely, Tim.”   
  
Tim felt a familiar swell of indignation in his chest. Bruce was stubborn. Unrealistically so. Tim flicked a few programs closed on his computer and did his ample best to keep a neutral expression on his face.   
  
“But I’ve been compiling evidence and I think I know what’s wrong with him. Or at least enough to follow a few leads. If we understand it, maybe we can-”   
  
“ We  can’t.” The Batman Voice. “I am completely aware of the nature of Jason’s trauma Tim. If your research is accurate, then you too know there is no cure for something like this.”   
  
Tim crossed his arms over his chest. Sometimes being a good Robin, being a good partner to Bruce meant standing your ground. “I know you want to keep me out of this Bruce, but if this is what we’re dealing with you should already know that you and Dick- you can’t do  anything  about it without making it worse. I have a better chance of containing the situation.”    
  
When no interruption was forthcoming, Tim went on.  
  
“Jason never knew me. He doesn’t see me as a threat. From our conversation there’s a chance he sees me as a victim. I can use that to bring him back. I can use it to contain him and possibly rehabilitate him.”    
  
Bruce didn’t seem convinced. “If you attempt to tell him the truth Tim, you could make it all that much worse.”   
  
Tim scrubbed two hands through his hair. He’d come to the same realization. If he allied himself with Bruce and Dick and attempted to refute something that Jason believed so wholeheartedly, he’d turn the man into an enemy right away. And then there would be no chance.   
  
“That’s why I need to come up with a very, very convincing lie.”   
  
______  
  
“Please stop.”   
  
Tim was as still as a statue. He was as still as a gargoyle watching Gotham with it’s silent sinister eyes. His cape whipped with the wind. His hair lifted and moved, but Tim, Tim himself, he was stone.   
  
Tim’s eyes, through the white out lenses, were trained on Jason Todd. The Red Hood.    
  
When Tim saw Jason in Gotham, it was strange, but they always crossed each other in flight. Jason wasn’t a flier. He never had been. He was a powerhouse, he was strength and power where wiry muscles were required. But like Bruce Jason had turned his body into a body that could fly over rooftops through sheer stubbornness. It took dedication to do the flips Jason was capable of, because his body type made it innumerably difficult.  
  
But he was always rappelling up buildings or flipping off fire escapes to shake one or two pursuers. And when Jason was running, when he was flying, the sound of gunfire always split the noisy rush of Gotham nights.   
  
Tim was fairly certain that Jason didn’t do nearly as much flying as Dick did. Dick looked for excuses. But Jason probably only did it when it was necessary.   
  
Still though. Once was an incident. Twice, well that was a coincidence. Three times or more? That was a pattern.  
  
But Jason wasn’t yelling. He never yelled at Tim. Mostly he just watched him, his red helmet gleaming under street lamps, the colour of blood drying on tarmac in the shadows. Jason’s body language now, right now, standing and watching Tim watch him- it wasn’t tense. It wasn’t threatening.It was almost- it was almost relaxed.  
  
Tim could take a chance on what he thought that meant.  
  
Jason cocked his head and his voice- Tim didn’t hear it often but Jason’s voice was like a gravel road and too much whisky and motor oil and creaking leather. It was deep and rough and so different from the deepness of Bruce’s voice. From Dick’s voice.   
  
“You don’t fucking understand- I can’t stop. I can’t. They’re-”  
  
Tim cut Jason off with a soft hiss. He had reached up, letting Jason watch him reach up- and pull away his com. Flick a switch. Jason had used these coms before. It was easy to recognize Tim turning the com off.   
  
Tim made his voice earnest and agitated all at once. His muscles locked in place. “Dead. They’re dead Jason.”   
  
Jason didn’t seem to have an immediate answer for that. But he tensed.  
  
“So stop this. Jason, you are just- you’re making things  worse .” Tim was just the right mix of desperate and firm, he thought. This lie. He needed to deliver this lie flawlessly. Anything less and Tim was going to ruin everything. Ruin Jason.   
  
“What are you talking about?” Jason’s voice was more of a bark than anything else, and he was on the alert. His gloved hands hesitating over the guns protruding from his belt. “What the fuck- tell me what the hell you know.”  
  
Tim forced himself to tense. To let Jason watch him tense- defensive- angry. He projected these emotions and some of them were even true.   
  
Tim shook his head. “I can’t tell you-”  
  
The first time Jason actually touched Tim- it was his leather glove creaking as his hand wrapped around his neck. Tim let it happen. He let Jason be in control and tilt his face up and bare his throat. If Jason felt he was in control there was a better chance for Tim to succeed in this mission.   
  
“You make it sound like I’m gonna give you a fucking choice in the matter.” Jason’s fingers bit into Kevlar and skin. And maybe that would bruise a little. Nothing that couldn’t be solved with some opaque concealer.  
  
Tim let Jason feel as his muscles tensed and trembling finely, his voice reverberating against his palm. “I can’t. I can’t- t-tell you Jason. I can- I c-can show you though-”  
  
Jason released him and Tim fell back, touching modified nylex gloves to the indentations of Jason’s fingers.  
  
After a tense moment Tim stood, moving slowly and being transparent about his movements. The last thing he needed to do was spook Jason. His house of cards was already rather precariously built as it was.   
  
Tim reached into his suit, a small opening he could barely wiggle his fingers into in the side seam and pulled out a small tracker. He dropped it to the rooftop in front of him. With Jason’s supervision, he removed four more. Dropping them all and his com into a pile, he held Jason’s gaze as he stepped forward, crushing the collected tech under his foot.  
  
“We have to hurry.” Tim’s voice was soft, a nervous quality lancing through it. “My signal’s out now at the Cave- we have to move before they get here.”  
  
Tim didn’t wait for permission when he dropped off the roof, grapple already in hand.  
  
And he didn’t need to look behind him to know Jason was following suite.  
  
______  
  
Jason was sitting on the floor of the safehouse. Documents, file folders, pictures and an innumerable amount of evidence to Tim’s claims spread around him.   
  
Tim stood, body canted away, watching in silence. Watching the thread of a tremor bowing Jason’s back.  
  
“This was Bruce’s contingency plan.” Tim said softly. He said it like an apology.   
  
“What the fuck.” Jason said. He didn’t seem able to say much more. “What the- what the actual fuck- when did-”  
  
“Bruce and Dick died about a year ago, Jason. almost a year. Next month it will be.” Tim moved. He slid down. He crouched in front of Jason. He wrapped his arms around his legs and he watched.   
  
Jason had removed his helmet and it lay like garbage off to the side, forgotten. His Domino was bright and red and Tim took the opportunity to learn Jason’s face. His new face. But he didn’t forget he was acting.  
  
“Bruce discovered- Darkseid’s plan. He made all sorts of clones- Clones of Bruce. He was going to use them- but they failed. They failed because every time Darkseid tried to implant the clones with Bruce’s memories- they went crazy. They couldn’t handle the strain.” This was the easy part, for Tim. It was easy because this wasn’t a lie. It was the truth.  
  
“Darkseid abandoned the clones.” Tim hummed softly, as if trying to figure out how to go on. “But Bruce- he did some reconnaissance. He got all the information he could on the process- and he improved it.” Tim slid a hand forward, tugging the corner of a document- a document dated a year and a half prior. Forged. But Jason didn’t know that.    
  
“I don’t fucking get it-” Jason sounded horribly close to breaking down or breaking things. “Bruce wouldn’t- he wouldn’t fucking mess around with Darkseid’s  shit. He’d- he’d lock it away so no one could get their fucking hands on it.”   
  
“Jason- I think- you’re underestimating Bruce’s humanity. Bruce was-”  Is , Tim told himself, because this was a true thing too- “He was afraid. He was afraid of what would happen once he was gone. Of who would be able to take care of Gotham. You died, Dick was in Bludhaven- me, I wasn’t even near ready to take the burden on on my own. I’m still not.” Tim curled his hand back to wrap around his legs, holding them against his chest. “And there really wasn’t anyone else who loved Gotham  enough  to want to save it every single night.”    
  
Jason let out a shaky sigh, crinkling the paper in his hands.   
  
“I don’t think Bruce ever expected to use it- to implement this- but he had to have a back up plan. Bruce always- he always needed a back up plan.” Tim had made himself as small as possible in front of Jason, as if these memories- as if talking about this was all at once too horrifying to face and too freeing to ignore. As if he was relieved to be speaking these words and afraid all at once.  
  
“Jesus fucking  christ .”   
  
“They don’t know Jason. I know you can tell- you knew them so well so you can tell- I can see the differences too if I let myself think about it- but they don’t know they aren’t the  real  Bruce and Dick and that’s why they can operate like they do. If they knew- it would change things.”   
  
Tim watched as Jason let the papers slip from his fingers and spill to the floor. “You know- I thought this shit was done. This crazy bullshit- I’m dealing with this psycho Lazarus in my goddamn blood, eating me up, eating me  alive and making me-  do  things. But it’s never fucking over is it? This life is a goddamn sedimentary rock of crazy piling layers and layers up and up until you can’t take this shit anymore.”    
  
Tim reached out on instinct more than anything. He reached out and closed his hand over Jason’s wrist. It wasn’t a hold that was threatening. Jason was close to breaking and it was Tim’s fault this time. But this was the way it had to be.   
  
“It’s hard.” Tim whispered, and he was grateful not to be lying again. “This life. It is hard. But we have to do it because no one else can. They aren’t strong enough to even  start , Jason. So even though it’s wrecking us, even though it’s ruining us and people are d-dying and we’re left watching- we have to keep going. We can’t stop. Because this isn’t something we do for us. I-I can’t be selfish and stop because it’s hard. And you can’t stop because it’s a part of you.”   
  
Jason was still underneath Tim’s touch for a long while. Tim was holding his breath. Tim was wondering if he’d done well enough. Been thorough enough. If this was enough to bring Jason  back .    
  
And then Jason moved. He twisted his hand until he was clasping Tim’s wrist and Tim clasped Jason’s thicker wrist in return.    
  
Jason squeezed. “Who the fuck  are  you anyway?”   
  
And at that- at that Tim smiled.   
  
“I’m Tim. Timothy Drake. It’s nice to meet you, Jason.”

**Author's Note:**

> Jason is suffering from Capgras syndrome in this story. He's unable to connect his feelings of love and affection to the physical representations of those he cared for. As such he deals with this by coming to the conclusion that his loved ones are imposters.


End file.
